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It is a crisp fresh morning and dew drops perch atop every surface I see as we exit the automatic doors of the Hilton Garden Inn in Philadelphia. I breathe in a sigh of contentment as I hold my little man close on my right hip and clasp hands with my big man, all of us eager to see what the day has in store. There is just something about being in a different place than home and the best way I can explain it is excitement and anxiety bursting to get out!

We have planned to go visit a children’s touching and exploring museum this morning, followed by a casual lunch and sightseeing in historic Philadelphia in the afternoon. My idea of an active and fun day – I don’t like to stay put for very long, it makes me feel lazy.

So, after a short and crazy cab ride (aren’t they always crazy in the city), we arrive at the museum with our rambunctious little guy building up his energy like a steam engine reaching the top of the hill and ready for the rapid descent. Unleashing him into the vast interactive exhibits is like watching him enjoy opening presents from Santa Claus on Christmas morning; I am just amazed at the wonder in his eyes. The best feeling in the world is seeing him process things and imagine what he is piecing together to learn about them.

I could watch my little man in his element all day but after about 2 hours of play in this environment, we decide to venture back out into the beautiful weather in search of food. Along the way from the museum to historic downtown, we find an enchanting Italian bistro on one of the street corners. So, under a red and white striped umbrella, the three of us partake in a scrumtious meal of lasagna and tortolini with a warm glass of white wine for me and hubby and apple juice for the little one.

So, now with tummies satisfied and our bodies recharged for walking, we set out to see the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. The crowd is large due to the nice weather coinciding with Spring Break and we hurry quicker through the sights than originally intended, so as to get back to a more relaxing pace for the evening.

By now, as much walking as we have done, we choose to hail a cab back to our hotel. Climbing into the air conditioned taxi van, we each fasten our seabelts and I look to the stranger in the front seat to provide direction. But, in the rearview mirror, I see familiar eyes staring back at me. The man, now in his early thirties, sees it in me too as he turns around with an all knowing glance. Memories of young love, studying for tests, staying out late together and a senior prom when I was just a junior wash over me and I confirm his identity by reading “Quinn, Jacob” on his license posted on the inner window.

It would of course cause a more awkward moment if I were to disclose this information to my hubby so I instead greet this blast from the past with a simple “Hello, how are you?” and a generous grin. I realize how this man helped me get to where I am today from the young love and encouragement we shared with one another 14 years ago. He also helped teach me about loss when he left me broken hearted and went away to Drexel University back then. I’m not quite sure what has happened in his years since high school to bring him to this career path and I see that sadly he bears nothing on his left ring finger except a worn indent from where a ring used to be. But, all I can think now is how fortunate I am to have overcome myself all those years ago to press on, still work toward my dreams and find love again eventually with my husband to become who I am today. And, I am proud of this person that I am – no regrets.

What I Learned:

The exercise here was to write about an unrequited love. I, by no means, still think about Jacob Quinn, (or any other ex from my past) with fond memories since I know that every step I have taken in the past (painful or otherwise) has helped me get to today. I am truly content with life married to my loving hubby and wonderful son and that was what I wanted to convey through this fictional story from the exercise. I feel accomplished to finally get my creative juices flowing again but have learned that I need to focus more on submerging myself in the story and less on the realistic factor of it. If I can do this, I can be more descriptive and successful with roping my reader into my story.

Hi There!

Welcome to my little home in cyberspace and thank you for visiting! I am single working mother and aspiring writer. Read along as I attempt to stumble through everyday life with it's trials in newfound single life and motherhood, all the while feeding in to my passion for storytelling and my growing fascination with photography.